


Lincubus

by Isra



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biting, Blood, Demons, Guns, Halloween, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isra/pseuds/Isra





	Lincubus

Rhett stands in his back yard under the dim yellow glow of the streetlamps from beyond the high wooden fence. In front of him is an open grill with chunks of red meat sizzling over the flames. On the table beside him is a half-empty wine bottle and a stemless red wine glass, also half-empty.

He’s out here on the red brick patio in bare feet, grey cotton shorts and no shirt. The wind rustles the leaves overhead and caresses the sparse hairs on his chest, raising goosebumps. Even though the day had been warm, the sun’s been down long enough on this last day of October that the temperature has chilled. He shivers and moves closer to the flames as he turns the pieces of meat over one by one to sear their other sides.

He could go inside and put on a shirt or get his bathrobe, but he is reluctant. He has the house to himself for the weekend and one of his rules in such a situation is to wear as little clothing as possible. The only reason the shorts are still present is the chance of last-minute trick-or-treaters. It's a good idea to answer the door if they come around; they might be teenage punks and he’d be responsible for cleaning any egg off the rental house’s siding.

Grease drips onto the fire and hisses as the scent of charred cow flesh makes him salivate. He’d been avoiding red meat lately on account of his colon, but with Jessie and the boys away he’d decided to indulge himself in some grade A, grass-fed sirloin tips. He turns up the flame and shifts his weight with impatience; the meat smells delicious.

A scrape of metal on wood startles him and his heart pounds as he turns, but calms at the sight of Link entering the yard through the back gate. The man is still in shadows under the low branches of the orange tree but Rhett can recognize his gait anywhere.

“Hey, buddy!” Rhett calls with a grin. He hadn’t realized his loneliness until he was presented with an alternative. “Thought you were busy tonight.”

Link enters the ring of yellow light cast by the closest streetlamp and Rhett is surprised to see him in a costume of sorts: black leather pants and his sleeveless black mesh shirt. He is wearing his mountain biking sunglasses; dark and narrow with sides that wrap around. “Hey, Rhett,” he says.

“What are you supposed to be?” Rhett asks with a chuckle. “Can you even see like that?”

“I can see fine.”

Link steps up beside him to stare into the flames and Rhett catches a scent on the breeze: sweet almond atop the rich musk of freshly turned soil. It makes him feel lightheaded as he stares down at the man’s profile. Link’s lips seem even fuller than normal and a darker shade next to unusually pale skin. It takes Rhett a moment to realize why the man’s skin looks so pale: the perpetual shadow of his beard, present even when he’d just finished shaving, is gone. Link’s jawline is carved alabaster.

“I’m hungry,” Link tells him, and before Rhett can react, the man reaches out and plucks a chunk of flesh off the grill with his bare hand. Rhett cries out involuntarily in sympathy at the inevitable burning of Link’s fingers, but the smaller man does not flinch. Instead, he brings the piece of meat to his lips and opens wide. His incisors rip through it like an overripe peach, biting it in half, and the steaming red juices flow down his chin.

“Yum. Want some?” he asks, holding the other half up to Rhett’s face. Rhett can see the man’s fingers are an unscathed pale pink, and he thinks perhaps the grill isn’t as hot as he thought it was. The inside of the meat is a dark purple, still raw despite its seared outsides, and Rhett is confused. Link prefers his meat well done and would never eat it with his hands; he would cut off small portions and chew them carefully. He is always careful.

“Uhm. Ahaha.” Rhett forces a laugh to hide his discomfort. “Wow, you must be really starving.”

Link says nothing and continues to hold out his offering. The red liquid is dripping down his fingers and pooling in his palm.

Rhett shakes his head, moving away from the strong smell of the meat. “Ah. I think I want mine a little less rare. You can finish that one.”

Link shrugs and pops the piece into his mouth. He chews for only a moment before tossing his head back like a seagull with a fish. Rhett watches the man’s adam’s apple dip and return as he gulps down the meat nearly whole.

It’s becoming disconcerting that he can’t see Link’s eyes. Normally they are geniuses at reading each other’s emotions, but Rhett is mystified. This Link is unreadable. “What in the world has gotten into you, man?”

Link turns his head and sees the wineglass. Rhett knows his friend does not like wine, especially red, but Link picks it up and raises it to his mouth. He drains the dark liquid in one breath and it leaves a stain on his lips as he tilts his head up to look at Rhett. His eyes are invisible behind the dark glasses but his lips curve in an unsettling smirk. “I decided to give in to my desires,” he purrs.

“Um. I didn’t realize raw meat and red wine were part of your desires.”

“There’s a lot about my desires you don’t realize.”

The shorter man’s mouth opens and his tongue runs along his upper teeth as if displaying them for Rhett’s gaze. There is something unfamiliar about them, which doesn’t make sense because Rhett has been staring at them while editing videos for years. For a moment he swears the man’s incisors are pointed.

Link’s tongue is also stained red and leaves a trail of gleaming wetness on his upper lip. The sight causes a twinge in Rhett’s groin which years of practice help him to repress. He becomes more aware of his own shirtlessness, of his lack of underwear beneath the shorts. He turns back to the grill to further distract himself and pokes the remainder of the meat to check its doneness. “You’re bein’ _pret-ty_ weird, man.” The meat is done; he turns off the grill and the flames slowly die. “What’re you even doing here? Don’t you have kids to watch so they don’t eat all their candy tonight?”

He feels Link step closer to his side and is aware of heat radiating off him to rival the grill. His breath caresses Rhett’s shoulder blade as he repeats, “I said I decided to give in.”

His hands are on Rhett’s sides, cupping the slight protrusions of flesh just above his waistband. Rhett inhales sharply at the contact and then clenches his jaw. Link is messing with him, that’s all. The taller man turns around as he casually knocks the hands away. “Don’t,” he says.

But Link does not step away and now Rhett is between the man and the hot grill with little room to maneuver. He looks down and sees the shadowed curves of Link’s collarbones through the mesh shirt. His eyes travel further to the lines of the man’s chest and abdominal muscles. Further still, they alight on the bulge in the crotch of the man’s leather pants.

Surely… surely he’s seeing things, Rhett thinks as his eyes travel back to the inscrutable black lenses. Link moves forward and the heat from his body virtually pushes Rhett backwards; his bare feet scuff the brick patio and he stumbles. His lower back touches the edge of the grill for a split second before he jerks away from it, hissing in pain at the burning line across his tailbone.

His eyes are closed and he hears Link laughing. It’s deep in tone, uncharacteristically cruel, and it both angers and frightens Rhett. “What the heck, man?” he lashes out. “That’s not funny.”

“Sure it is.” Link is standing close to him again. “Let me look at it.”

Rhett waits while the other man bends down to take a closer look at his injury. There is suddenly a hot, wet sensation and he realizes Link has run his tongue over the burn. Rhett yelps and is about to move away again when he feels a cool breeze in the same spot; Link is exhaling over it and it does feel a little better. Just when Rhett is starting to relax, he feels the same moist sensation travel from the burn upward along his spine, and Link's hands grip his hips again.

“I like how you taste,” Link murmurs into his skin. He stands up, tongue between Rhett’s shoulder blades now, as his fingertips wander toward the front of the taller man’s waistband.

“What— what in the world?” Rhett has a hard time speaking, but he knows he has to. He has an obligation. He takes Link’s hands and pulls them off of himself as he turns around. “What is _wrong_ with you? Are you drunk?”

Link’s lips gleam red in the pale yellow light of the streetlamp. “C’mon, man. Don’t play games. We both know you’ve wanted this for years.”

For a moment Rhett’s mind washes blank and then the automatic denials flood back in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t need to remind you that we’re married men.”

“And I don’t need to remind you of the way you look at me. The way you’ve always looked at me.” Link advances a step and Rhett wills himself to stand in place. Perhaps if he refuses to give ground his friend will abandon this dangerous idea.

“I don’t—“ Rhett starts, but Link advances again, and his leather-clad groin brushes the front of Rhett’s crotch as he places a fingertip on the man’s sternum and says, “I don’t need to remind you of what you think about when you jerk off in the shower.”

Rhett’s mouth is dry. How could Link know? He’d been so careful. He feels as though he may shatter his teeth with the force of his jaw clenching. He is frozen until Link’s fingertip trails down his chest and stomach and then he feels Link’s hand cup his manhood through his shorts. On reflex he shoves his friend away and they both stumble back a step. He sees Link smirk, seemingly undaunted, while Rhett is shaken to the core.

“I don’t… it doesn’t—“ Rhett stammers, then takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, if you’re playing a weird game or what, but I think you should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even if I wanted to… and I’m not saying I do,” Rhett clings to his denial like a life preserver. “I’d never cheat on Jessie.” He gestures toward the gate. “Go on, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Oh, honey.” Link’s voice is a hiss that sends a shiver up Rhett’s spine. “Your wife is the least of your worries.”

He advances again and Rhett’s anger overtakes his surprise. How dare Link threaten the stability of everything they’d worked for and everything they’d built with their families in order to play… whatever this joke was? He raises his voice and gives Link’s chest a shove with his palms. “I said get out!”

Link’s body feels unusually solid and he is barely moved by Rhett’s force. He comes toward the taller man again, laughing that same low laugh, and Rhett’s rage increases along with his panic. What is he supposed to do if Link doesn’t obey him? How far is this going to go? He can either let Link chase him around his own backyard or put a stop to it now.

This time, when Link reaches for him, he raises his right hand and delivers a slap to the man’s cheek. He means it to be light, merely trying to drive some sense into him, but it appears far more dramatic because Link’s sunglasses go flying off and skitter into the shadows under the orange tree.

“Oh crap, man, sorry.” Rhett’s apology is automatic; he is already wracked with guilt at raising a hand to his best friend. However, the grousing complaints he expects from the other man never materialize. Instead, Link laughs again, and now Rhett can see his eyes.

They are black.

Not merely the irises, which would be alarming enough in his normally cerulean-eyed friend, but the whites as well. They are shining black orbs filling Link’s eye sockets.

“Oh!” Rhett inhales in a quick gasp before his brain catches up with his heart, and then reason takes over. There is an obvious explanation. “Oh, wow, the full sclerals,” he says. “I didn’t even know you still had them. How did you even get them in without help?”

Link’s mouth is open wide in a grin and Rhett can see that, yes, the gleaming incisors are oddly pointed. “They aren’t contacts,” he laughs.

Rhett rolls his eyes. “Of course they are. Stop messin’ around.”

Link ducks his head just under Rhett’s chin, looking up at him with his teeth still bared. His body radiates heat and the sweet scent of almonds and charred flesh as he reaches up a hand and pinches his thumb and forefinger across his right eyeball. Rhett sees the surface of it has a strange lack of give, not like a contact lens or an eyeball at all. More like obsidian.

And that’s when Rhett realizes things are terribly, terribly wrong.

He is through the sliding glass door to his house and has slammed it shut behind him before it occurs to him that perhaps it would have been a better idea to run out to the street. There might be people there who could help him deal with… whatever is happening. Instead, he is alone in an empty house and his body is shaking so hard he can barely think.

Outside, he sees through the glass Link advancing toward him slowly and deliberately, hips swaying like a jungle cat, and Rhett flicks the tiny lever to lock the door. He stumbles backward a few steps, transfixed by the sight, until the instincts of a North Carolina heritage kick in. He runs to the bedroom, caroming off the walls in his haste, and falls to his knees at the bottom of his closet.

His fingers tremble as he fails to put in the combination to the safe twice before he succeeds. He yanks open the door and pulls out the small Walther P22 and a clip of ammunition. He springs to his feet and puts his back to the wall between the closet and the bed as he shoves the clip in.

He leaves the safety on. This is just in case, he tells himself. Just in case Link — if this is really Link — gets inside. Just in case he won’t listen to reason. This is just to scare him and make him leave.

He is clutching the gun in both hands in front of his chest and whispering prayers when he hears the glass shatter. He suppresses a scream, not wanting Link to know where he is. He should call 911 but he left his phone out by the grill and they have no landline. No one is going to help him.

Before he can breathe, there is a silhouette in the doorway. Link’s voice is a sultry rasp. “Hey, sugar.”

Rhett brandishes the gun with trembling hands, not pointing it at Link yet, but showing him he has it. Rhett’s voice comes out high and weak. “Stay back, man!”

When his friend does not respond right away, Rhett takes a deep breath and grasps for crumbling reason. “Link, you’re… you’re really freaking me out here. I don’t know what happened to you, but let me help you fix it. We’ll figure it out, we always do.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Just go home now and we’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Link’s silhouette moves into the room and Rhett presses his back harder against the wall. His heart screams at him to flee this deadly creature, but he has nowhere to go. He raises the gun shakily, pointing it now at the vicinity of Link’s legs. “Don’t make me shoot you, man.”

Link’s rich chuckle is enough to make Rhett nearly piss himself. “The safety’s on, darlin’.”

Rhett licks his lips and moves his thumb to push the lever up. Why is Link calling his bluff? Why is this happening?

“That’s better, there you go.” Link’s voice is almost soothing and calls to Rhett’s mind the image of a slaughterhouse worker talking to a cow. It is not reassuring.

Link’s dark form advances further into the room to where the moonlight reaches from the window and Rhett can see the man’s features again. His red lips are still smirking; his eyes a flat, expressionless black. Rhett realizes tears are streaming down his cheeks as his voice cracks. “’C’mon, brother. Don’t make me do this.”

“Brother…” Link echoes, then chuckles. He takes another step.

Rhett’s hands jerk up and he aims wide as he squeezes the trigger. The gunshot cracks across his eardrums as the bullet pulverizes the sheetrock to Link’s right. He hopes Link will be scared, but as his hearing returns, so does the man’s laughter. Link is only two strides away from him now.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett whispers. He raises the gun again and squeezes the trigger. This time, when the shot rings out, he sees Link’s shoulder jerk backwards and he nearly vomits. He instantly wants to take it back. How can he have just shot his best friend? How could he do that to Link, the man whom he’d always believed he would give up his life for?

Link stands motionless in the darkness and Rhett can see the wound just under the man’s right collarbone. The bullet tore through the mesh and Rhett can see dark, viscous blood pouring out of the hole beyond it, trickling down the man’s chest. He watches as Link slowly inclines his head and extends his tongue, then laps at the liquid like a cat.

The man straightens up to look at Rhett and his teeth gleam bright red. “Naughty,” he hisses.

“No,” Rhett breathes. He was sure that would be the end of it. He sobs as he raises the gun again. “Please, God…”

“Shh.” Link waves a hand and suddenly Rhett feels the strength vanish from his body. His arms fall to his sides and the gun clunks to the carpeted floor. Shortly afterward his legs buckle and he lands hard on his knees, back slumped against the wall. He fights to move but it is like sleep paralysis; his body is deaf to his screaming demands. He can only move his head to look up and watch as Link closes the distance between them.

“You can help me fix it, baby,” Link purrs. His hand goes to the waistband of his pants and thumbs the button open.

Rhett’s heart is pounding out of his chest. Is it possible to fix this, even now? Possible to save his own life, and Link’s? He struggles to speak. “How?” he gasps.

“By giving in to our desires.”

Rhett is transfixed by the image of the man’s hand drawing down his zipper. Link does not appear to be wearing underwear and his erect manhood is suddenly and wholly exposed. Moreover, it is immense—bigger than Rhett would have guessed; big enough to make Rhett’s brain shut down in awe and terror at the sight of it.

He closes his eyes and moments later feels the tip of it brush his face. The skin is smooth and fiery hot along his cheek and Rhett recoils as far as he is able, which is not far at all. He moans in fear, still struggling to move his limbs, and Link’s fingers twine through his hair. Underneath the waves of fear and panic, a dim part of him realizes he is also aroused. “No,” he whispers. “Please, Link…”

“Give in,” Link hisses as he wrenches Rhett’s head into place. His hard shaft pushes Rhett’s lips apart and stretches his mouth wide open as it enters him, not stopping until it reaches the back of his throat. Rhett feels himself trying to gag but his immobilized body barely responds; he hears soft whimpering and realizes it is coming from him.

Link grips his hair and thrusts hard into his mouth, bruising Rhett’s lips with his body. When he pulls out, a long string of saliva follows in his wake, trailing down Rhett’s chin as the man coughs and gasps for air. Link gives him only a few seconds before he muffles Rhett’s pleas with his cock once again. He growls as he rocks his hips, shoving himself deep into Rhett’s throat, pale fingers holding blond hair in an iron vise.

Despite all reason Rhett feels his own ardor growing as Link’s urgency increases, and by the time he feels the man’s muscles begin to twitch and shudder he knows his own cock is rock hard. With a final groan, Link holds himself still and Rhett feels Link’s manhood pulsate over his tongue, then come gushes thick and heavy into his mouth. He swallows again and again until there is no more.

Link pulls out and suddenly Rhett’s throat is burning. It is fiery hot agony like the Carolina Reaper and it travels mercilessly down his esophagus and into his chest where it roils in a fireball. Rhett gasps high-pitched and helpless cries as he writhes against the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks, mindless with the pain until he feels lips against his own.

Link’s mouth is hot, but not agonizingly so, and the contact seems to calm the fire coursing through Rhett’s body. The smaller man cups Rhett’s chin in his hand and kisses him roughly, but it feels like a gentle caress after what has just happened. Rhett whines and responds eagerly to the comfort Link offers; as their tongues intertwine, he tastes blood and sweetness and death.

When they separate, he feels the strength returning to his limbs and braces himself against the wall as he rises to his feet. Link still stands close to him in the darkness; his eyes remain glossy black orbs. Rhett is still afraid, but it is blanketed over by his arousal. His cock is achingly hard and he looks down to see that Link’s is as well. “You aren’t done?” he asks.

Link chuckles. “That was the opening act. Now it’s time for the main event.”

Link’s hand grips him through his shorts and Rhett moans quietly with his head back against the wall. The smaller man’s hand begins to move and Rhett’s chest hitches as he tries to speak through quick, quivering breaths. “This… this is gonna… fix things?”

“Oh yes,” Link’s voice whispers into the notch of Rhett’s neck. His fingertips slide under the waistband of Rhett’s shorts and push the garment off his hips, dropping it to the floor. “This will make it all better.” His teeth caress the skin of Rhett’s chest as his hand begins to stroke, and it is desire that weakens Rhett’s knees this time. It’s wrong, what they are doing. But it is necessary. And moreover, Link’s hand on him feels so damn good.

Link grasps his hips and moves him with shocking strength, shoving him onto the bed. Rhett falls backwards into the rumpled white sheets and watches as Link removes his pants and shirt. The man’s skin has always been flawless, but in the moonlight it practically glows. The only thing that mars it is the small hole in his shoulder and the dark red liquid that still trickles out of it.

Link sees where he is looking and crawls onto the bed on top of him. He straddles Rhett’s lap and his body is a dense, leaden weight. He hooks his arm behind Rhett’s neck, hauling him upright and putting his face directly in front of the gunshot wound. His cock jabs into Rhett’s stomach as he growls, “Lick it.”

“Wh — what?”

Link’s arm tightens, practically rubbing Rhett’s nose into the broken flesh. Realizing he has no choice, Rhett parts his lips and extends the tip of his tongue to the fresh blood. The salty iron tang is overlaid with sweetness and it seems slippery, almost greasy as it slides down his throat. He expects to be nauseated, but instead he feels a sudden rush of pleasure. He shudders as his body responds instinctively, pressing his mouth to the wound and suckling. He moans deep in his throat with the sudden knowledge that he is on the edge of orgasm.

Link releases him and he falls back onto the bed, panting in the grip of overwhelming sensations. Rhett wipes the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and then licks his hand clean. He feels like an animal. He is adrift on a sea of lust and his fear stands on the shore, forgotten.

Link slides back to stand at the end of the bed and grasps Rhett’s ankles. He flips the man over onto his stomach and hauls him backwards so his knees are at the edge of the mattress. He lifts up Rhett’s hips so he is kneeling with his legs spread, then leans down and pulls his upper body upright with an arm across his chest. He is moving the larger man around like a child’s doll, effortlessly, and Rhett feels completely at his mercy.

He likes it.

Link’s hardness presses along Rhett’s backside as the man reaches down to stroke Rhett’s cock. Rhett moans and shudders in the man’s grip, hips rolling with wanton desire. He knows what’s coming and he knows he should be scared of the pain, but Link’s touch feels so good he can’t think of anything else. He feels the other man’s hips rock back and his cock slide into position, then a burning pressure as he pushes the tip of himself inside.

Rhett cries out wordlessly, gulping air, his lust faltering at the reality of being penetrated for the first time by something so large. He tries to pull away from the pain but Link’s arm is an iron bar across his chest. It moves up to press along Rhett’s throat as Link’s hand cups his chin, turning his face so the man can capture his mouth in a kiss.

Link swallows Rhett's cries of pain as he pushes himself further in, his other hand still at work on Rhett’s cock. Rhett feels his hips moving despite himself, pressing back, his body asking for more despite the white-hot agony that accompanies it. The kiss and the arm across his throat combine to drastically reduce the oxygen reaching Rhett’s brain. By the time he feels Link’s body against his backside, the man fully inside him now, he is only seeing darkness and stars.

Link releases his mouth and manhood, moving his hands to Rhett’s hips as the larger man’s upper body collapses to the bed. Rhett’s muscles are slack and he can barely support himself, though Link’s fingers digging into his flesh will keep the necessary parts of him in place for Link’s pleasure. Link snarls as he begins thrusting in earnest, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in deep.

Rhett cries out with every thrust, and he doesn’t know if he is begging for more or begging for it to stop. It hurts so much, but he wants it. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything. He presses his cheek into the mattress and closes his eyes. Link is taking him, making him his, and he is powerless to stop it and doesn’t know if he would if he could.

Link ceases his thrusting and pulls out, but before Rhett can catch his breath the man has rolled him onto his back. He shoves Rhett further up the mattress and climbs on after him, kneeling between his spread legs and staring down. His eyes are still black, his skin is pale and dry, his breathing calm; he seems completely unaffected by their vigorous activity.

Rhett, on the other hand, is a mess. His hips move involuntarily and every exhalation is a soft noise. His fingers curl mindlessly on the sheets and his cock twitches and throbs. Link moves closer to him and pulls his legs into position, knees bent and spread, then enters him again. This time the pressure is accompanied by less pain and more pleasure.

Link leans down as he begins thrusting and his mouth is burning hot on Rhett’s collarbone. His teeth pierce Rhett’s flesh like razors and the larger man cries out, arching his back. Link laps at the blood before leaving it to flow freely and moving to the base of Rhett’s throat. He grabs Rhett’s hair and pulls his head to the side before biting down again. It takes very little pressure before the skin breaks and the blood flows, and the man suckles at it as he thrusts.

Rhett’s hands are still limp by his sides, his eyes struggling to focus on Link’s pale form above him. He moans softly, nearly insensible with pain. He feels the blood trickling down the curve of his neck and soaking into the sheet underneath him. It feels cold next to the burning heat of Link’s mouth. He wants Link to drink all of it; all the blood that’s inside of him.

Link rears back and brings his lips to Rhett’s, his mouth filled with the taste of Rhett’s blood. It makes Rhett feel ravenous and he returns the kiss aggressively, even going so far as to nip at Link’s swollen lower lip. Suddenly energized, he thrusts his fingers into Link’s hair and pulls the man to him. His other hand rakes fingernails down the rippling muscles of Link’s back. He growls his lust into the kiss.

Link hisses a laugh as his back arches, encouraging Rhett to scratch him harder. Rhett tightens his grip on the man’s hair and Link lets him pull his head back, mouth open and bloodstained teeth bared. Rhett knows his teeth aren’t sharp enough to cut flesh easily but he sees the gunshot wound in Link’s shoulder and raises his mouth to it. He tugs at the edge with his teeth and fresh blood starts flowing, filling his mouth with a rich, heady wine. Link’s laugh is deeper, more throaty now as he allows Rhett to drink his fill, still rocking his hips in a rhythm that never falters.

The taste of it eventually overcomes him and Rhett falls back to the mattress with a moan. Link leans back and takes ahold of one of Rhett’s legs and raises it up, resting the ankle on his shoulder and shifting closer. The angle allows him to go even deeper than he’d been before. His glassy black eyes meet Rhett’s and hold him spellbound as he begins to thrust faster. He holds Rhett’s thighs where they meet his hips and pulls their bodies together roughly, going deep with every thrust.

He finally begins to make low, rough moans in the back of his throat and his red lips part as his breathing increases. Rhett feels the man’s cock getting even harder, filling him to the brim as Link continues to hold his gaze without blinking. Finally, after what feels like an eternity on the edge, Link thrusts in and holds himself there, fingers digging into Rhett’s thighs. His muscles ripple and he snarls as he begins to empty himself deep within the other man.

As soon as it starts, Rhett feels a searing pain in the center of his body that tears a scream from his throat. The pain of being penetrated and bitten is nothing compared to the agony that blooms inside of him now, as if his very soul is being ripped apart. He bucks and writhes, trying desperately to escape, but Link holds him in place with ease. The man’s unblinking eyes stare down at him over a red, laughing mouth as his cock continues to spew its venomous load.

The pain blazes its way up Rhett’s torso and he feels his heart spasm and stumble. His lungs begin to seize and he can no longer draw enough breath to scream. His vision narrows to a pinprick filled only with Link’s glimmering eyes and he feels himself falling forever into their void.

There is silence and stillness.

Lips cover his own and air is forced into his lungs. Link’s tongue snakes into his mouth, delivering fresh blood and sweetness that taste like life itself. Rhett’s consciousness rushes back to him along with the realization that the agony in his body has transformed into ecstasy. As intense as the pain had been, so now is his pleasure. There is barely time for him to open his eyes and fixate on Link’s before his rapture reaches its crescendo, plunging him helplessly over the edge.

He cries out as his muscles clench, hips jerking in Link’s grip, spasming around the sensation of Link’s cock still inside of him. His come surges out of him in thick torrents that paint his chest and stomach on and on until he is completely and utterly drained. He shudders and mewls as the ecstasy slowly subsides, like waves retreating from the shore, leaving him flayed open and trembling.

Link leans down and kisses him again as he slowly withdraws. Almost immediately, Rhett feels incredibly tired. His muscles are slack with exhaustion and satisfaction and he can barely keep his eyes open. He is only dimly aware of Link settling in beside him and taking him in his arms before he succumbs to a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

He wakes to darkness and an empty bed some hours later. He is still naked and he is surprised to not feel the chill. In fact, he feels quite warm. He also feels none of the soreness he expects when he moves his limbs; instead, his body thrums with energy. He takes a deep breath and savors the scent of sex and blood that still fills the room. He realizes he is starving.

He gets up and goes to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light because he can see his way just fine. The faucet squeaks as he turns it on and he fills his hands with cold water. He splashes it onto his face, then cups his hands and drinks deeply again and again until his thirst is finally slaked. He straightens up and faces himself in the mirror.

Link steps up to his side and puts an arm around his waist. Their eyes meet in the mirror and the silver light of the moon illuminates two pairs of glossy, obsidian orbs.

Link smiles. “See? All fixed.”


End file.
